


The Ground Crew

by fractionallyfoxtrot



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Carl's not the only one looking out for MJN, Gen, post Yverdon-les-Bains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractionallyfoxtrot/pseuds/fractionallyfoxtrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carl's gotten wind of Martin's Swiss Airways interview (and job offer) through the ATC grapevine.  He gathers the rest of the ground crew to give them the news and there's only one question on everyone's mind: What will happen to MJN?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ground Crew

Carl leaned back in Martin’s chair and propped his feet up on the desk as he glanced around the portacabin. He’d only been inside a few times before--it was a long trip down from the tower--but even he noticed the absence of books and other knick knacks from around the small space. MJN’s presence in their own office was thinning out; something was definitely wrong.

There was a short knock at the door before Phil poked his head inside.

“You wanted to see us, Carl?”

Carl sat up, putting the apple in his hands down on the desk.

“Did you bring everybody?” he asked.

“Just about,” Phil nodded, opening the door. “Dirk muttered something about ‘the hedges waiting for no man’ but he promised he’d be along soon.”

Phil entered the portacabin, followed by Terry, Dave, and George. Phil sat at Douglas’ desk and Terry perched on the corner nearest to Martin’s. Dave and George argued over the small stool in the corner; Dave eventually relented and leaned against the wall.

“You know it’s after five, right, Carl?” Dave questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. “We had rousing game of darts going on at The Hose and Hydrant when Phil came in saying we all had to meet you in here. I was winning,” he grumbled.

“No, you weren’t,” said George.

“I was until you kumquat’d in the middle of my throw,” Dave argued.

“It ain’t illegal to do impressions during the game.”

“It bloody well should be.”

“If you check the rules-”

“What did you want, Carl?” Terry asked, interrupting yet another fruit impression argument. “And why are we in here?”

Carl leaned across the desk towards the others.

“I got a call this afternoon from my friend Harvey; he works over at Geneva International,” he started to explain. “Remember when they all drove out to drop Martin off for some flight to Switzerland?” Everyone nodded but Dave. “Turns out he had an interview with Swiss Airways... and according to Harvey, he got the job.”

“Someone offered Martin a _job_?” George asked in astonishment.

“As a _pilot_?” Dave added.

“Apparently so,” Carl shrugged.

“Is he going to go?” asked Terry.

“What happens to MJN?” asked Phil.

“I think we all know what happens,” said Carl.

The five men looked around the room at each other. They all knew how the one plane operation worked; they all had years of experience complying with Carolyn, entertaining Arthur, dealing with Douglas, and arguing with Martin. It was nothing short of a miracle that the company survived as long as it had and their endurance sort of had to be admired. The long-running pool had been abandoned after St. Petersburg; it seemed hollow, not to mention foolish, to bet on when the airline would finally fold.

It seemed wrong to play a game that no one wanted to win.

Carl broke the silence with a quiet sigh.

“I don’t know if he’s going to go,” he said, shrugging again. “It’s hard to imagine that he wouldn’t. Major airline, an actual salary, relocation to a city near that princess he’s been seeing; the decision almost makes itself.”

“But what about-” Phil tried again.

“I don’t know.”

“And-” Terry started.

“I don’t know.”

“And poor-”

“ _I don’t know_ ,” Carl stressed, cutting George off. “I have absolutely no idea what MJN will do without Martin.” Carl sighed again, dropping his head into his hands. “But I know they won’t survive,” he mumbled.

Silence fell over the portacabin again. Terry looked down at Phil, who was staring at Douglas’ desk with a furrowed brow. George watched a spot on the floor between his feet with equal diligence. Dave glanced up at the ceiling for a moment before unfolding his arms and stepping forward.

“Then we do something,” he proclaimed, pounding a fist on Martin’s desk.

Carl lifted his head. “Do what?”

“Hell, I don’t know,” Dave shrugged, “but we’ve got to do something. They _can’t_ fold. I’ve spent too many years taping, tying, and jerry-rigging that plane back together for them to go under before it falls apart. That thing is an engineering marvel from where I’m standing!”

“Well, what do you propose we do?” asked Phil.

Dave opened his mouth just as the portacabin door opened again. Dirk entered, forced to turn to the side and duck his head in order to pass through the doorway. He nodded at each of the men before turning to Carl.

“Carl, I have bad news,” Dirk said gruffly. “MJN will fold if Martin takes a new job in Switzerland.”

“We know, Dirk,” Carl nodded. “That’s actually what we’ve been talking about.”

“They cannot fold. We must do something.”

Dave looked Dirk up and down and subtly tried to pull himself up to a taller height. He jutted his chin out at the groundskeeper’s shoulder.

“You know, Dirk, if you weren’t late, you’d have heard me say that just before you-” he started.

“I will need your help,” Dirk interrupted.

Dave was immediately silenced. Phil and Carl perked up and George leaned forward to look around Dave at Dirk. Terry stood up from Douglas’ desk.

“Wait a minute,” he said, stepping in between Dave and Dirk. “You know what to do? You know how to keep them from going under?”

“Of course,” Dirk answered with a curt nod.

“How?” Terry asked.

Dirk grinned, an expression that was simultaneously unsettling and reassuring.

“It’s easy when people are afraid of you.”


End file.
